


Enough

by gayvidtennant



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Hopeful Ending, Kinda, M/M, One Shot, Stream of Consciousness, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 01:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12643446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayvidtennant/pseuds/gayvidtennant
Summary: Miles tells the story of his perspective of his relationship with Alex throughout the years. Sorta stream of consciousness, but not really. Standalone one shot I wrote at the end of the Everything You've Come to Expect Tour in December 2016, but never posted.





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in December of 2016, and today I read it for the first time since then. I went through and edited some things, but other than that it's unbetad. I had originally written Miles and Alex's dialogue in their accents, but it was dumb and kinda annoying so I changed it to normal, expect for the part where Al's drunk. I kept it there because he was supposed to be slurring his words, and the original way I had typed their accents kinda made them seem like they were drunk anyway.

I knew from when I was nineteen that this was different. That it would never work out. It was destined to crash and burn but that just made it more exciting. More enticing. It was unfamiliar, and it drew me in, chewing me up just to spit me out. I knew it would end poorly. But I didn’t care.

I had been with loads of girls before. They always loved me back home; I was a rock star and that made me irresistible. I’d had relationships through secondary school, serious ones and silly flings. I’d had my share of one night stands. I figured I’d settle down when I was an adult, but for now, it didn’t matter. I lived in the moment.

I remember being ecstatic when we found out we’d be touring with a band. Jumping around and screaming like we were kids, we celebrated all night when we heard the news. Not only did we land our first tour, but we got to open for a band we actually liked. It was perfect.

We met up with the Arctic Monkeys before our first show. I remember running my hands through my moppy hair, trying to make it perfect. I felt uncomfortable in my clothes; they made me look like a wannabe British rock star. Which, I mean, I was. But I had never cared much about my appearance before. Another thing he completely changed about me.

I introduced myself as Miles, as if they didn’t already know that; my usual insouciant attitude quickly dissolving in front of them. I was anxious. Jittery. My palms sweaty and shaky. But Alex pretended he didn’t notice as he grabbed my right hand and said “I’m Al, nice to meet you.”

And in that moment, I was gone. And I’ve been ever since.

Both bands would go out to pubs after each gig, and we’d all have a good time. I began to get close to Matt and Jamie and Andy. But with Alex, well. It’s cliché, but we just clicked immediately. We became best friends. He was the one I spent my time with, the one I told everything to, the one I supported. When The Little Flames broke up, I went to Alex for comfort. When Andy left, he came to me for help. We were attached at the hip, and people joked we were the same person.

We always talked about making music together. Empty promises, I figured. Usually when he was drunk. He’d pull me close and laugh and slur “Wouldn’t it be great ta work together? Writin’ and playin’ an’ all ‘at?” He was almost incoherent whenever he got enough alcohol inside him. I’d always just smile and agree. Try to hide that there was nothing I’d want more. Because I knew he’d forget by the morning. It would never happen, I knew. But maybe that was for the best. I knew if I spent every waking moment surrounded by him, I’d go insane. By this time, I knew I felt something for Alex. But I denied it. Suppressed it. I had to. I couldn’t love him.

He called me one afternoon, out of the blue. He brought up working together again. Totally sober. Biting my lip, I tried to appear nonchalant. I agreed, hoping I was coming off casually. I wondered if it would ever happen.

He asked me to play for the recording of Favourite Worst Nightmare. Arctic Monkeys had begun to take off, and I was honored beyond belief that he would ask me. It was then that the project I’d secretly been dreaming of for what seemed like ages started to become a reality.

We basically moved in together while planning the Puppets. Writing lyrics and creating the music would turn into staying up all night talking and laughing. Just me, Al, two Fenders, and a bottle of Jack Daniels between us. Those nights made me feel that life was amazing, and I never wanted it to end.

We recorded and released the album. I think we were both shocked by the success of it. We performed and toured, spending every minute of every day together. We thought we looked cool with our Beatles hair and matching leather jackets. We thought we were ruling the word. I looked good. I felt good. I spent each day playing music with my best friend.

It was then I realized I loved him.

It was a sudden realization. It’s not like I woke up one day and knew. It was slow and gradual. But there wasn’t any denying it. I loved Alex Turner. And there was no one else I could love.

But he had Johanna. I knew he loved her. I wasn’t the type of person who could tear apart a relationship. And I couldn’t bear to hurt Alex. I laid awake most nights, thinking. Drowning myself in guilt for even considering making a move on him.

But they broke up. I talked it out with him afterward. Comforted him. He moved on. Started dating Alexa. I pretended to be happy for him. In a way, I was. I just wanted him to be happy. Even if it was because of someone else.

If I’m honest, I don’t even remember when it happened. I know it was soon after the tour ended. We were back home. We’d been out at pubs celebrating. He was hammered, so I took him back home. He could barely hold himself up. I supported his weight and helped him walk. His arm around my waist. Mine around his shoulder. His neck had gone limp, so his head hung on my shoulder. “Miiiiiles,” he whispered into my ear. His hot breath reeked of alcohol and vomit, but I didn’t care. Every part of him was always beautiful to me. “I luff yah, yah know?” Al and I told each other this often. It really meant nothing.

“Love you too, Alex.” I sighed, struggling with carrying his weight. He was the skinniest person I’d ever met, but he seemed to weigh a ton. We dragged along like this until his place came into view. Half carrying him up the stairs, I propped him against the door as I searched in his pockets for the key.

“Oi,” He laughed as my hands tickled against his thighs. “Stoppit!” His slurred voice made him sound like he was talking through honey. I found his key and stuck it in the door, dragging him through the dark to his bedroom. I’d spent so many hours here, I didn’t need to turn the lights on to know where I was going. I set him on his bed, and he flopped onto his back immediately. Sighing, I unzipped his leather jacket as he fought against me.

“Al,” I said sternly, “just let me get you out of these clothes. You’ll be comfortable and then you can sleep, alright?”

He ignored me, writhing around as I pulled his t shirt over his head. Reaching for the button of his pants, I couldn’t help but blush. But I wasn’t going to let him sleep in his jeans. I’m a better friend than that. I managed to peel his skin-tight jeans off of him as he kicked at me. “Miles!” He laughed giddily, “Yah tryin’ ta make a move?”

Sighing, I somehow got him under the covers. “Goodnight, Alex.” I murmured, stroking his damp hair. Before I even knew what was happening, his hands grabbed my face and smashed it to his.

He was kissing me.

I wanted to enjoy it. I really did. But I couldn’t. He was drunk. I would be taking advantage of him. And he had a _girlfriend_ , for fuck’s sake. I tried to pull away, but he was insistent. He didn’t even move his lips on mine, just kept them sitting there. I waited until he came up for air. Gasping, he tried bringing my head into his once more, but I resisted. “Al, no. Let go of me!” He dropped his hands and pouted. Stuck his bottom lip out at me.

“Why?” He asked, looking genuinely hurt and confused. “Yah don’t want this?”

“I – I – I” I sputtered. What could I say? “Alex. You’re drunk. You have a girlfriend. We can’t.”

“I want it, though,” He whined. “Why don’t yah?”

I shook my head. “I can’t, Alex.” pushed him so he was on his back once again, and pulled the blankets back up to his chin. I left without a word.

He didn’t remember that night. Never brought it up, never mentioned it. Nothing. I was glad. It meant I didn’t have to talk to him about my feelings. We could still be best friends. It wouldn’t be ruined.

Life went on. I knew I had to get over him. I met Agyness, and we dated. I felt something for her. I really did. She was cute and fun and I might’ve loved her. I still loved Al, but that was pushed out of my mind. Alex had a permanent residency inside my heart, but there was a little room for others. And that’s where Agyness stayed. For a while, anyway. We broke it off because we agreed something was missing. There wasn’t a spark.

I called Alex afterwards. He told me girls were all the same and I didn’t need her anyway. The usual post-break up stuff. Hearing his voice was enough to make my heart swell. I felt better. He didn’t even have to say anything meaningful to cheer me up. He was enough. He was always enough.

Arctic Monkeys continued to grow in fame. Al was so happy all the time. The more famous he got, the less he was around. But it was okay. I was proud of him. No one deserved success more than Alexander Turner.

Alex broke up with Alexa. It felt like a weight was lifted off my chest. I felt guilty every time I was around her. It wasn’t my fault he kissed me. But it didn’t matter. I felt like she knew it happened and hated me for it. I knew there was no way it was possible, but it didn’t make a difference. Al again came to me for comfort, and I was always glad to give it. I’d do anything for him to feel happy, no matter how much it hurt me.

Around this time, I left the Rascals. We weren’t doing well and I felt I needed to do something on my own. I called up Al and we worked on Colour of the Trap together tirelessly. I was so proud of that album. I poured blood, sweat, and tears into it and Alex helped me. We wrote it together. It reminded me of old times, when we were The Last Shadow Puppets. And I let myself believe everything was still the same as it was then.

Alex started dating Arielle, and my heart was again shattered. But it was okay; I could mend it up again. He liked her and was happy. So I could be happy too.

Time continued to go on. It always does. It never accounts for feelings or wishes. It’s constant, but maybe that’s good. I would curse time, beg it to stop or just go back altogether. Anything to give me a chance with him. It was too late now.

He was changing, every part of his life was changing. But mine was just staying the same. He had a beautiful girlfriend. He was beginning to make real money, a lot of it. He started gelling his mod hair up into a quiff. His voice and his music style changed. His shy, awkward attitude turned to one of confidence and swagger. None of it was negative change; it was all beautiful to me. I was proud of him and all he’d accomplished. But I was still the same Beatles wannabe. I had a solo album that I was proud of, but it was nowhere near the success of the Puppets. I was lonely.

I missed him.

We met up for what felt like the first time in years. We were at his new place. It was nice, nicer than anything either of us had ever seen. He had made it big, and his house reflected it. We talked about life, what had happened and what we were doing. But it wasn’t long until we slipped back into our old jokes just like before. It was so easy. So easy to lie to myself and say this would all work out. I knew it never could, not with him.

Late into the night, I made the mistake of commenting on his change. We both had been drinking. Nothing good ever happens when we’re intoxicated. He took it the wrong way. One thing led to another, and we ended up screaming at each other. He threw his whiskey glass at me, and it hit the wall with an explosion of glass. I was infuriated. I drop everything for him, I do anything for him, I support him through everything. And this is what I get in return? I remember yelling “I FUCKING HATE YOU” at him before slamming my glass to the ground and stomping out of his house.

We didn’t speak for over a year after that.

I used Suki to fill the hole in my soul. I met her shortly after the fight, and I fell for her instantly. She was young, beautiful, funny, and full of life. She made me smile like only Alex ever could. I allowed her room in my heart, and I really did love her. I thought she was the love of my life. And I told everyone. I shouted it from the rooftops. Suki Waterhouse was mine and I loved her. I forgot about him when I was with her.

I began my second album. Without him. I wrote the songs without Alex, which left me feeling empty. I was still proud of it, but it wasn’t the same. Something was missing.

And then my life somehow fell apart even more.

Suki left me. For Bradley fucking Cooper. Of course. It couldn’t have been any normal guy. It had to be a famous actor. He was twenty years older than her. Probably a pervert.

It hurt.

It hurt even more to find out that she had been seeing him while we were still dating. She cheated on me. The love of my life, the only one besides _him_ that could make me feel that way. The one that made me forget about Al. She cheated on me. She broke my heart into a million little pieces, more than Al had ever done. She hurt me. And I had nowhere to turn.

So I ran back to Alex.

I called him, praying he would answer. It had been almost two years. I figured he wouldn’t.

“Miles?” The voice on the other end of the line asked.

He picked up. He still answered after all of this time. I tried to apologize, tell him I never meant all the stupid shit I said. I didn’t hate him. I never could. But none of that came out. I started blubbering about Suki, and the whole story came out. I broke down and wept. And he sat and listened. After all this time. After all I said to him. He comforted me. He told me it had been too long. He invited me over.

I went to visit Alex the next day. I missed him so much. When we saw each other, we hugged so tight and so long I thought he’d never let go. Hoped he’d never let go. _Prayed_ he’d never let go.

We both apologized profusely. He filled me in on what had been happening in his life. I told him about my new album. I had almost finished writing for it when Suki turned my life upside down. I considered giving up and trashing the album as a whole, but Al wouldn’t let me. He told me that this should be inspiration for my album, not a reason to give up.

He always knew what to say.

And just like that, we were back into each other’s lives again. Like nothing had ever happened.

My album was released. It did better than the first one. I was happy.

I shaved my head. I did it to move on. It sounds dumb, but it helped. Suki and my past were dead to me. I was a different Miles Kane.

Arctic Monkeys released AM and everything changed again. If they were famous before, then now they were megastars. The songs were everywhere. Everyone around the world knew them and loved them. Alex was a rock star, for real this time. He broke up with Arielle and toured the world.

My heart continued to burst with love and pride for him.

Twenty fourteen ended as Alex’s best and craziest year. It was time to calm down and relax. Have a year to relax. He deserved it.

It had been seven years since the Puppets made an album. We’d kept everyone waiting long enough, I supposed. So I met with Al and we began to start writing again. We spent every minute together during this time. And I loved it.

He was dating Taylor and I was dating Hannah. Hannah was great, I really did have feelings for her. But I don’t think I’ll feel love for anyone else like I did for Suki. And definitely not like I do for Alex. Suki broke my heart, and I couldn’t fully trust anyone else with it ever again.

Besides Alex.

We released Everything You’ve Come to Expect in spring of 2016. The Last Shadow Puppets ended our eight year long silence, finally. We went on tour. The tours were always the best and happiest parts of my life. I was always with Alex, and it was perfect. I was truly happy for the first time since our fight. Maybe even since our last tour.

I loved him still. I had loved him since we had silly Beatles hair and wore stupid matching suits and ties. I loved him when I had a buzz and scruff and he had long, greasy hair hanging to his shoulders. We were inseparable then, and we were inseparable now.

This time it was different. We were somehow even closer. Physically and mentally. Al was always a touchy person. But even more so now. On stage, he’d kiss my cheek, wrap his body around mine, and hug me from behind. I hoped maybe he was starting to feel the same way. I prayed. I pleaded with God. I needed Al to love me.

And then I made a mistake. I got drunk with Alex. Because I guess I learned nothing from the other times we got pissed together.

I told him I loved him. I wish I remembered the details, but I don’t. I just know those three words came out of my mouth. And I know he reacted poorly. I know he didn’t feel the same. The rest slipped my memory, thanks to the alcohol. Maybe it was for the better.

I woke up the next morning, a pounding in my head and a hole in my heart. I had to talk to him. I had to.

But he found me first. “Miles,” he said, cornering me so I couldn’t try to run away. “We need to talk about last night.”

My Adam’s apple bobbed in my throat. “Yeah,” I agreed, voice trembling.

He led me to a tent that was set up for the upcoming festival we were going to play at. It was deserted, so he slipped inside. I followed, heart pounding.

“Miles, about last night,” He began, looking into my eyes. I couldn’t handle it and my gaze dropped to his shoes. “you’re my best mate. And I love you, I really do. But not like,” He paused and I let my eyes flit back up to his. He cleared his throat and looked away. “not like that. I can’t. It – it can’t happen. I’m sorry. I have Taylor, and you have Hannah. The way I touch you, it’s for the fans. You know they go wild when we do that stuff on stage. And we can always –”

I cut him off there, standing up so quickly my vision momentarily went black. “What’re you talking about? I was pissed last night. I didn’t mean any of what I said. It was just the alcohol talking. It’s all just bullshit.”

I began to walk off. “Miles, wait.” I felt his hand on my shoulder. Pulling me back to him. I shrugged his hand off without turning around and left the tent. I went back to the bus and slept for the rest of the day.

I didn’t see him again until the next day. He had a bandage over his forearm. I opened my mouth to ask if he had injured himself, but I realized. He had gotten a tattoo. Before I could ask, he showed me. It was her name, scrawled across his arm in bold, black letters. T A Y L O R. It felt like someone had plunged a knife into my chest. He was hers. He’s branded by her. He belonged to her. She belonged to him. There was no room for me in his heart, and there never would be.

I faked a smile and made some joke about him being whipped. He laughed it off.

We spent the rest of that summer and then that fall touring. It was still the happiest time of my life, despite what happened. The fear I had since day one had been confirmed. I wasn’t surprised. But it still hurt. It still hurts me now.

We’re not touring now. I don’t know what’s in store for us next. I’m still with Hannah, and he’s still with Taylor. He still doesn’t know about the kiss way back in 2009. I still love him, and I will never cease loving him. He’s still perfect in every single way, and I hope he knows it.

I will never give up even though I know it’s not meant to be. I’ll spend the rest of my life chasing Alex Turner. I’ll support him, and I’ll be there for him forever. I’ll be his best friend until the day we die. And I can live with that. If he ever decides he wants more, then I’ll be there. If he can ever change his mind and can look into his heart and find something in there for me, I’ll be ready.

Until then, I’m along for the ride.

Until then, I’ll drop everything for him whenever he needs me.

Until then, I’ll lose everything for his happiness.

Until then, I’ll be waiting with every ounce of hope and faith possible.

And if that day never comes. Well. That’s okay too.

Just being in his life is enough for me.


End file.
